Life: a Different Story
by RainbowSkittles666
Summary: my version of what life would be like if it were real... changed around a little to match  certain elements of other lives... *cough, cough*...
1. Chapter 1

Walking down the corridor, my feet are aching from hiking the stairs and trekking the crowded school halls for the week. The family's in the living room, enjoying their Friday night with pizza and corny movies. They wave and smile, a clear invitation to go join them. And maybe I could, if it were any other movie, any other night, if I weren't dying. In my room, door closed, music turned up loud, I sit and cry. I cry for my pain, help the tears wash it away. I cry for my family, they pretend not to, but they worry. And they have every right to. I cry for my scars, broken silver lines going every which direction on my wrists. I AM dying. On the inside. Mentally, but sometimes a physical pain will push through, overriding everything I'm doing. Take a breath; try not to let the sobs come through. It's so hard not to let my rotting heart destroy my life. Reaching into bedside table drawer, I pull out my jewelry box. Removing the key form around my neck, I push the key inside the keyhole and turn. On the outside, it looks like a normal jewelry box, but on the inside there are no gleaming rings and sparkling necklaces, but gleaming blades and sparking new razors. There is no jewelry polish and velvet cleaning rag, but a small cup for water and a blood stained rag. I prepare the rag, dipping it into the cup and wetting it. Then applying it to it to my wrist and blade, I clean them. I brace myself for the entry of the foreign metal into my flesh, an adrenaline filled fear washing over me. The first incision, not what I expected it to be. Not as deep as I had hoped. A second and third attempt, and I suddenly let out a wail. My fourth incision was much deeper than usual. Biting back a scream, I taste the blood flooding into my mouth.

"Be quick," I think to myself, as I clean the blade and my wrist again. It's bleeding much more than expected, so I grab my sopping wet rag, press it to my left wrist and hold it in place tightly with duct tape to help reduce the bleeding.

"Odd," I muse, frowning. I have done this for three years, and have never slipped nor felt faint afterwards. But I do now, and I can't work out whether that's good thing or not. I stay in my room for a few more minutes, to help calm my puffy red eyes down. And when they had, I get up, lock my jewelry box, replace the key to my neck and turn my music off.

"Time to go eat," I think to myself, feeling kind of dizzy. Twelve minutes and forty-five seconds later and I've had five slices of pizza and still feel odd. Mum decides to comment on my face being rather pale, and asks if I feel sick. My obvious answer is to deny it, but I'm not so sure. My turn to do the dishes and recycling, so I get up and collect everyone's plates, but suddenly, my vision shifts out of focus and my feet can no longer support me, I topple over, smashing plates and making a mess. But I don't notice as my vision shifts to blurriness, I see slivers of my mums face; only hear half of her shrill shrieks.

"I don't care." I think as my eyes close and darkness closes in around me.

"So this is what it feels like to die," I say out loud, it seems before blacking out completely.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up slowly to a dull ache in my head. Its been three days since I woke up in the hospital, and it's beginning to take it's toll. The hospital and my parents have come to an agreement: three councilor visits a week, every week. I really don't want to go, but as per usual, no one listens to my opinion. It's that kind of thinking that got me in this situation in the first place. Also, to make matters worse, my nurse is such a bitch! She frowns at me, hardly speaks, and rough handles me. In the middle of my mental rant, nurse-from-hell comes in and delivers the best package I have ever seen. After a grunt and a sneer, she stomps out, and leave. There he is, looking a little desperate and lost, trying to find any sign of recognition on my dace of who he was.

"Nathan," I begin, and there he is, like a charm, rushing onto the bed with me, ripping off the stiff sheets that the nurse has had me confined in.

"I thought I lost you," he said, looking puffed and incredibly adorable with his apple green eyes peeking out at me under his mass of fluffy straight black hair. His bottom lip pierced in the left hand corner and skin as white as a blank piece of paper he looked like a porcelain doll. Too good to be true. Which he was, Nathan and I had been best friends since we were five, now that we're sixteen, it's totally obvious that we have a pretty strong bond. We share our secrets, our hopes, our fears and our aspirations. I think from the first day I met him, I couldn't help falling for him. And to this day even, it grows more and more every day…..

"hey! You in there?" he tapped on the side of my head, eliminating my total daydream.

"sorry" I smile, trying to look as apologetic as possible. "I was just dreaming."

Dreaming of You.

He snuggles up up beside me on the bed. Nuzzling his face in my long aqua hair and whispers

"of what were you dreaming, miss?"

of You, of you, Always of You.

"dunno," I rely, "it seems useless dreaming anymore. How'dya know where I was?"

"hey," he says, pulling away looking cheerful. "You're my bestest bud-bud. I know all about your latest stunt." And with that, he wound his index finger around my thick, and for once, soft hair. "and for which, I will get you back for. I WILL HAVE MY VENGANCE" he bellows, causing a passing by doctor to star and look into the room. At that were both in hysterics over.

"ohkay, number one, never call me bud-bud ever again. And second, vengeance for what!" I reply, after sobering up a bit, wiping a stray tear from my eye. my scattering tears are nothing compared to the fat, salty tears rolling down Nathan's face, staining his cheeks with the eyeliner that only he and I were so famous for applying. Honestly, this was such a fucking small town!

After a second of quick thinking, I reach a shaky hand out to his face, wiping the tears from his smooth face. His face has an illegible expression on his face, as he reaches up and grabs my wrist. Pain sears throughout my body, and I writhe and groan, trying not to give it away.

"Sorry" he frowns sadly, and turns my wrist, looking at the angry red lines splashed artfully against my own pale forearm.

"Oh, Alexi," he says, using my old nickname. "Alexi. Alexandra! Why would you do this to me!" he cries, throwing y arm back at me in disgust.

I hate to admit it, but I care what he thinks, he himself having done this before as well. There were tears in my eyes and my voice wavers as I say

" I'm sorry! Look, I'm really sorry! I'm sorry that I'm not beautiful or perfect and my wrists sure show it! I'm sorry that I ever knew you and caused you pain, Nathan! I'm sorry, I'm sorry IM SORRY!"

by that point the tears were rolling down my face in rivers of mixed emotions. I wipe them away furiously. I look up at Nathan, and the sad look in his eyes as he cries as well while I say

" I'm sorry Nathan, I don't deserve a person like you in my life."

"oh, Alexi," he cries, pulling me close. And such is instinct, that I snuggle in further and smell his strong musky scent. Really sexy.

"you deserve the world, Alexi, your beautiful and you deserve so much more than me. You deserve everything and anything you desire. And no one like me should ever try to take that away from you."

I smile to myself ad say

"Really? Do you mean it?"

A sly smile spreads across his lips slowly.

"Really truly. I love you Alexandra. You're my best friend."

I smile to myself, and snuggle back into his chest.

I don't know how long we lay there, but it feels well and truly like hours. His apple green eyes meet my cold blue as we watch each other the entire time before falling asleep slowly.


End file.
